#nonlinear dynamics

[fuckyeahfluiddynamics]

Seeking Rogue Wave Origins

Rogue waves -- rare waves much larger than any surrounding waves -- have long been a part of sailors' tales, but their existence has only been confirmed relatively recently. The exact mechanisms behind them are still a matter of debate.  (Image credit: S. Baisch; research credit: A. Toffoli et al.; via APS Physics) Read the full article

[ontonix]

On Blackouts, the Dynamics of Complex Systems and Post-Collapse Analysis

The technology developed by Ontonix is particularly relevant in today’s world, where the complexity of systems and manufacturing processes is increasing due to technological advancements, globalization, and interconnectedness. This increasing complexity is becoming a new and insidious source of risk. Complexity-induced risk cannot be understood and countered with traditional means due to one key…

[thepolymathexcuse]

Weeklies: Further

Happy Monday to everyone!

Our productivity stepped down a notch this past week, but that might have stemmed from a few other things, such as lack of motivation over certain topics due to an inefficient weekly planning and the looming anxiety over the job applications I sent a week prior. My lack of control over social media and phone usage in some moments to cope up with this anxiety also might have been a big factor. However, since we consider everything (and I am not exaggerating when I say every single thing I do) an instrument for learning and growth, I guess our productivity doesn't really define the things we learned this week. So, without further ado, here's our summary of how this wonderful week went.

Last week's new learnings:

A. Online Courses

I finally finished the last training video of the Dr. Mendoza series with the title "Basic Concepts and Impacts of Climate Change in Agriculture, Forestry, and Natural Resources." [1] That means we can move forward to the next phase of this project: distilling the knowledge we learned from the four videos and connecting them in different activities you will be reading soon in this blog. The training title already defines the knowledge contained in this training. It provided definitions and connections between climate change and all related terms like greenhouse gases (GHGs) and global warming, as well as delved into the factors that affect climate change, and how climate change impacts several important aspects of our modern lives such as agriculture, health, natural resources, weather patterns, and biodiversity. Furthermore, what really brought me the most attention was the part that presented the international and national (Philippines) approaches on addressing climate change. Besides having a recalling of the Paris Agreement and the Kyoto Protocol, I was also introduced to other initiatives such as:

the REDD [Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and (forest) Degradation], which is an initiative developed by the UNFCC that works by providing incentives to developing countries to slow down rates of deforestation, which the organization inferred to be the main cause of around 17-20% of the increase in total carbon emissions within 5 years;

NDCs (Nationally Determined Contributions) which allows individual nation-states to provide their conditional and non-conditional commitments in developing their own ambitious plan to reduce their carbon emissions; and

the "cap-and-trade" market based mechanism under the Kyoto Protocol that manages GHGs emissions of participating countries.

Moreover, I learned that the Philippines had its own activities in contributing to combating the effects of climate change. This includes their NDC plan of cutting our GHG emissions by up to a whopping 75%! You read that right. The Philippines really took it to heart when the parties under the Paris Agreement said "ambitious." How are we doing this, so far? The Climate Change Act of 2009 led to the creation of the Climate Change Commission, which is the primary agency of our government reporting under the Office of the President tasked to coordinate efforts relating to climate change mitigation as stated by the law. This then led to the formation of a strategic plan that is contained within the National Climate Change Action Plan from 2011 to 2028. [2, 3, 4, 5]

Another key takeaway for me is this: although developed countries contribute significantly higher percentages to the total carbon emissions worldwide, it is more practical and less expensive to limit the GHG emissions of developing countries instead rather than to completely change the already-established system of the developed nations. The first thought that came to my mind was this: developing countries are already suffering more from the worsening effects of climate change and yet we are still asked to adjust for the sake of these wealthy nations. However, the international initiatives such as the Paris Agreement and the Kyoto Protocol, allows the wealthy countries to provide financial support to the developing nations to compensate for the reduced GHG emissions, which to me, seems like a win-win situation for both parties. But the most surprising thing about these initiatives is that they're completely voluntary, and although as unfortunate as it sounds, it became even clearer to me that the key to actually combating climate change to save our species from eventual extinction really lies in the hands of those currently in power.

B. Scientific Articles

I'm still working my way towards this article on the "Tipping elements of the Earth's climate system" but I'm slowly coming to terms with the concepts contained in the article. It's a slow process but this leads me to realize that I actually do not have the necessary foundation in order to easily understand this topic in greater detail and in a faster rate, because the mathematical derivation of how a tipping element is defined had connections with topics such as bifurcation theory or maybe even nonlinear system dynamics (which is offered in MIT Open Course Ware for free!). [6] Additionally, I had to tweak my learning strategy especially on hard topics like this, and I learned that digital notes is not the way to go. Instead I wrote down in a notebook in order for me to digest the information more carefully and connect the ideas better. Plus, you can never really go wrong with the aesthetics of a pretty handwriting! It also made me realize that I have to revisit my foundational knowledge on chemistry, biology, mathematics, and physics in order for me to fully advance with my areas of interest. It makes me wonder how ineffective of a student I must have been during my years of schooling to actually not have these basic knowledge drilled into me. I don't fully blame myself though because when I told this story to my friend (hi Ana!), it also revealed the areas for improvement on our education system solely focused on the students getting good grades. But I'm already here, so I'm trying to make sense of this article one way or another with whatever I already have. Who knows, maybe in the near future, I'll find time to solidify this foundational knowledge that would greatly benefit me if I ever pursue graduate studies.

C. Other areas of learning Note: Since I consider my thinking as an avenue for learning, I am abandoning the last section on my 'realizations' and instead write about them under this particular section.

I am having a hard time reading through a 567-page thriller novel called Ghost Story by Peter Straub. Reading a hundred pages in a span of a week is too slow for my usual reading. One of the intriguing reasons I could think of as to why this is happening is that I am taking too much time analyzing the book. It was supposedly just a leisurely activity, but here I am trying to analyze the characters' development and connections, how the setting affects the overall plot, the language being used, and the patterns that continually present themselves as I go deeper into the novel. I made it an intellectual activity, and although it might seem weird to others (and completely over-the-top or OA as the current trend refers to it), I actually find this fascinating and I might create an informal analysis about the novel in the future. It got crazy to the point that I even had a nightmarish dream of this Annabelle doll attacking me during the wee hours (at 3:00-3:30, I know, what a coincidence) of Saturday morning, which led me to eventually jump out of bed, and forgo sleep during that morning. That's how terrified I was! It might be because I used the Hemingway bridge technique in order for me to look forward to the next few pages, kind of like how telenovelas or TV series use cliffhangers to hook their audience for the next episodes. I stopped reading the book Friday afternoon at a particularly terrifying page with no actual conclusion as to what happens next. My mind must've been too eager to find out what's next; hence, it stayed within my subconscious and decided to attack me in the form of a nightmare. Well, guess what? Getting up that early on a Saturday morning means I got nothing to do but continue the next few pages, leading to me eventually finishing the novel's second part, which leaves us the last chapter to finish (equivalent to more or less 200 pages). [7]

Doing some of the learning activities within the Dr. Mendoza series led me to realize that the Geographic Information System (GIS) might be analogous with a Second Brain. The GIS software does exactly what a Second Brain does: (1) it captures data and stores it within the software's database; (2) it organizes data in a way that is readable for the system and accessible for the users of the software; (3) it distills data by manipulating it for spatial analysis; and (4) it expresses data through creating aesthetically pleasing maps based on the user's interpretation of the data. This leads us to believe that information or knowledge is just data that is captured, stored, organized, sometimes updated, and used in whatever purpose you desire. This is not a novel thought, but finding some analogy across two separate areas of my learning journey is a fun way to integrate the knowledge I'm learning. It kind of serves as a proof that what I'm trying to do (learning several areas at once) is not in vain.

This came from an Instagram comment I saw yesterday (Sunday, Oct. 20) and it read: "self-growth never ends, we should always be trying to become better people." It reminded me that there really is no end goal in the learning process. Sure, maybe some day, there might actually be an audience for this blog and the success of this blog might be defined by the metrics of how many people visit and read what I write about, but the process of learning itself technically doesn't have an end. Yes, some courses might have learning outcomes and checking off those course goals could lead to a finished course but learning doesn't stop there. In fact, gathering new knowledge only leads you to ask more questions, and therefore, creates even more avenues for learning. In my opinion, if you start to view learning and self-growth as another ambitious goal, you will never get the sense of achievement or satisfaction commonly associated with goals. This might sound depressing, but this doesn't mean you cannot celebrate your own milestones, such as finishing a course or just getting your way through a tough lesson you spent so much time on. No, you can celebrate all these because they are still considered victories, but they don't necessarily correspond to a finish line, because learning has no finish line of its own. Additionally, as we progress towards the future, research and innovation will continue to bring new knowledge that we soon need to learn. Again, this seems like a depressing thought: what's the point of learning anything if I'm not achieving any goal in particular? Well, to me, here's where the journey matters more than the destination. Isn't it fun that we live more every day knowing we tried to step a little bit further into the top? Isn't it comforting that as we gain more knowledge, we eventually become better versions of ourselves? Isn't it exciting that we're learning because we're making ourselves more competent and equipped to face the increasing difficulties of our daily lives? In moments of rest and stillness, you can further comfort yourself by zooming out and appreciating the many steps you've taken, the amount of knowledge you've gained along the years, and just think to yourself: look how far you've come.

This is another random thought while I was scrolling through social media and watching this video on why more people are in the phase of burning out: we really are a broken generation. It sounds awful, but social media, overconsumption of information, and overall the capitalist world we live in brings in many of the stressors we as a species experience almost surprisingly in a collective manner. The theory of evolution encompasses the notion that the more successful species eventually adapt to their surroundings in order to survive. I'm nowhere near being an expert in genetics, but maybe our bodies will eventually form new genes essential for coping with the current stressors of our modern society. That's how previous species overcame extinction and survived through the years: through genetic mutations that allowed them to build a better version of their species. It's a scary thought, but it could also be comforting for the ordinary person: eventually, we as a species will find ways to adapt and survive in our constantly changing world. [8, 9]

I'm also currently reading two books on meteorology, which is another introductory activity for a more detailed course in the future. We had a subject on hydrometeorology when I was in college, and reading through these allows me to recall the knowledge I learned during that time. I learned about the following: the theories on the origins of our planet's atmosphere; how climate affected several extinction events in the past; how geological and biological activity impacts the climate of a specific time period which also by the way, involves a lot of chemistry; early weather forecasting methods and the development of modern ways to tell the weather (I have my eyes on you, Robert Hooke!); and the different ways to classify climate. It also allowed me to recall the primary difference between climate and weather. Climate is highly based on patterns and can be predicted given the right data, but weather is highly variable and random and your prediction for the next three hours may actually change because of a single perturbation. I couldn't think of a better analogy so I'd like to borrow the words of J. Marshall Shepherd quoted from one of the books: "Climate is your personality; weather is your mood." [10, 11]

Finally, it's always fun to chat with some of my friends and the people around me, because they, too, are valuable in my journey of personal growth and polymathy.

Here are some of this week's bops and constant listens:

Southern by Sleeping at Last: I used this as my focus music during my read through of the tipping elements!

New Orleans by Parachute: romantic, because of certain events happening in my life

Important by Ian McConnell: A really creative take on optimistic nihilism, a philosophy I would not be able to embody but still can be a great source of ideals and values for living;

Euphoria by The Ridleys: I danced to this music one night, and I just felt the love overflowing from within me. Ah, what a beautiful memory.

These two odd collaborations by Charli XCX which gave me profound realizations: i think about it all the time (feat. bon iver) and i might say something stupid (feat. the 1975 and john hopkins).

A recently released jazzy instrumental version of one of my favorite Coldplay songs, that gave me all the feels there is to be felt: Sparks (Instrumental) by Evan Jacobson.

May Singil Ang Pangarap by Barefoot Theater and the cast of the Bar Boys musical: Instant regret because this led to a queue of songs from various musicals that I sang so loud one early evening, which eventually led to a sore throat the following days. Hah!

Horizon by yuragi: A shoegaze track from a Japanese band I found from one of my old playlists, which gave me feelings of transition, of becoming, of change, a topic I've recently been spiritually connected to during this current journey of healing.

Gale Song by The Lumineers feat. James Bay (Live from Wrigley Field): A live version of a track from the film score of the Catching Fire adaptation, sang by two wonderful folk artists, was an unexpected surprise to me. I didn't even know this version existed until Wednesday afternoon!

A Model of the Universe by Johann Johannson (from the film score of The Theory of Everything) and Chopin: Nocturne No. 20 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. Posth. (sorry for the long title, I am not well versed in classical music notation!): these 2 tracks are the main reason why I got through pages of the Ghost Story novel! Fantastic background music.

Introduction to the Snow by Miracle Musical and Tally Hall: I found this I think last year from an Instagram reel about self harm, and it absolutely introduced me to a genre of music I didn't know I would appreciate. For me, it reminded me of the seasons of my life: how my journey can sometimes lead to challenging and enduring winters. I don't necessarily know if that was the artist's meaning of the song, but that's how it appeared to me. I searched for the song, and it was a track from a musical! What are the odds!

There's another long read, but I do hope you enjoyed the bits of here and there in my journey of learning and self growth. I'll see you next week!

Once again, I leave you this: keep wandering and chase what excites you!

---

Footnotes:

[1] Basic Concepts and Impacts of Climate Change in Agriculture, Forestry, and Natural Resources; Link

[2] Public Registry for the Nationally Determined Contributions of different countries; Link

[3] Philippines' First NDC; Link

[4] Climate Change Act of 2009 (RA 9729); Link

[5] Official website of the Climate Change Commission; Link

[6] For MIT OCW courses related to nonlinear dynamics of systems; Link

[7] Ghost Story (novel) by Peter Straub. I got the Pocket Books first print edition (1980). Oddly, enough, I salvaged this book for free from one of our cleaning sessions from an agency I used to work in!

[8] Why We're All Burning Out | Byung-Chul Han's Warning to the World, by Einzelgänger; Link

[9] The Price We Pay For Being Productive - A Philosophical Critique of Hustle Culture, by Robin Waldun; Link

[10] Weather: An Illustrated History edited by Andrew Revkin with Lisa Mechaley (2018)

[11] Weather Watching (Patrick Hook, 2006)

[clumsypuppy]

Been LOVING your lil magician folks recently please continue they're beautiful and very cute and cool and also very well-designed!! 🥺❤️

thank you for the kind words !!! im not much of a writer, but i do have some sort of story in mind for them.. theyre bitter rivals who end up as roommates bc of their scatterbrained elderly landlord lol

[aimwigs]

guys im so excited about this fic i think it's the best thing ive written since see your light shine

[calcichel]

What the hell does this mean

MIRROR/SENTENCE LUIS CAMNITZER // 1966-68 [vacuum-formed polystyrene mounted on– synthetic board | 18 4/5 x 24 3/5 x 1/2”]

[hermagneto]

Chapters: 1/50+ | 50 Chapters Fully Outlined!

Fandom: X-Men - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Jim Henson's The Labyrinth

Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Hermione Granger/Erik Lehnsherr, Power Couple (Hermione/Magneto), Implied: Severus Snape / Original Male Character Characters: Hermione Granger, Erik Lehnsherr, Hermione Granger & Albus Dumbledore (Shadow Dynamics), Hermione Granger & Gellert Grindelwald (Philosophical Mirror), Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr (Founders Rift, Implied Subtext), Sarah Williams / Jareth (Labyrinth Echo), Harry Potter & Hermione Granger - Character, Background: Luna Lovegood & Neville Longbottom friendship, Complex: Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr Additional Tags: Multiverse, Shadow work, Soul Magic, veil magic, Crossover, Found Family, The Labyrinth - Freeform, X-men - Freeform, Harry Potter - Freeform, Mirror Symbolism, rewrite of canon, Resurrection Through Memory, Soulbonded Pairings, Mirror dynamics, Shadow Work Romance, Multiverse Romance, snape deserves love, Snape Heals, Harry Potter is Asexual, asexual protagonist, Queer Redemption, Canon Divergence, Dragon Age (Lore Elements), Movie: X-Men: First Class (2011), Labyrinth (1986) - Freeform, Multiverse Convergence, Shadow Work / Soul Integration, Magical-Political Rebellion, Reality Shaping by Belief, Underground Magic / Fae Lore, Goblin Reclamation, Healing Through Memory, Rewriting destiny, The Veil as Identity, Mythic Fantasy / Soulpunk, Multiverse Fusion AU, Psychological Magic Realism, Post-Canon Divergence, Nonlinear timelines, Multiverse Identity Themes, Dissociation / Reality Distortion, Psychological Warfare (Symbolic + Real), Slow Burn Romance, Institutional Betrayal, Spirit Battles / Soul Absorptions, No Major Character Death (but symbolic erasures), Trauma Recovery, Nonlinear Narrative, Magical-Political Intrigue, Psychological Realism

🌀 The Spiral World Is Coming... 

There’s a moment when mirrors crack. Not because they’re broken — but because they’re true. Hermione walks between worlds.

Magneto stays for love. The fae return fire to the sky. Jareth whispers.

And the Labyrinth breathes again.

🗓 Full chapters begin July 31st.

But until then... I’ll be peeling back the Veil.

#TheVeilRising #WIP #ComingSoon #HermioneGranger #Magneto #MultiverseFic #ShadowWork #AO3 #FFnet #MagicAndMutants #FaeAwakening #WLOFallon

Crossposted to Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14483522/1/The-Veil-Rising

[kuntprodukt]

I NEED YOU (I BREATHE YOU) PT.2

prev. chapter | Dante Sparda x reader | 18+ MDNI. SMUT, female reader, sugar baby&sugar mommy dynamics, age gap(reader is in her 20s), vaginal sex, unsafe sex, creampie, teasing, handjob, mirror sex, lingerie, public sex, light feminization.

Summary: The dress sits on your figure so well, little creases on your waist as the fabric wrinkles up in a seated position. Yesterday he fought demons for the mission. And tonight you will go out.

notes: thank you for my girl for proofreading this one @writingwisterias. So yeaaa...i had already this in my mind after finishing the first one, idk if there would be more after that. Reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of interractions are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs

Pop! Your lips purse out briefly, sending an invisible kiss to your own reflection, this lipstick suits you. Dante stands next to you. He is no expert in makeup, but anytime he watches you or Trish it looks like some sort of weird magic - impossible to master, weirdly enough. It makes sense, after all he is specialised in killing demons and master in every touchable weapon. Makeup isn't a weapon, at least he isn't aware of its body count if it exists. The dress sits on your figure so well, little creases on your waist as the fabric wrinkles up in a seated position. Closer to you, on the floor there is a kraft bag with something. Dante doesn’t give too much thought into that, tired and it would be useless to pry into your business. Yesterday he fought demons for the mission. And tonight you will go out. Nice and clean.

A clap - your attention shifts to his face. You raised an eyebrow, clearly confused why he even did that. And he stays silent with pursed lips. Oops, embarrassing. Old man habits, they don't die but roots grow deeper after every birthday -  the ones you seem to get off sometimes. He hopes, watching you turn away again.

“Ready?” His fingers squeeze your cheeks in the mirror, your reflection frowns - light crease in between your brows as they come closer. Like a displeased cat. 

“You’ll ruin my look,” Your hand slaps his ones away, coaxing a chuckle out of him. “...stop” 

“Can't ruin something already perfect.” Dante coos, before his gaze falls down to your cleavage. Deep cut. Pretty. He spotted a little reddish nonlinear spot, like a nebula on the visible soft side of your boob, close to sternum. A pride fills his chest - his job, even though he didn’t intend to leave a hickey. He wants to knead your chest again, to feel its weight filling his palm. Hey, old man, dirty thoughts down - tonight is all about spoiling and enjoying each other's companionship.  

You exhale, there is no answer or “thanks”. Anyone else would think you are a little spoiled daddy bitch. Just a sigh. Your chest falls down with the air out. Not looking at his reflection, avoiding his eyes and pretending this didn’t flatter you. With all that time with you, he knows well your subtle changes in expressions - a deep exhale, avoidance but a hint of curled up lips are enough to tell him your thoughts. Brief, subtle details matter so much. You like him too much for a sugar mommy, too much than you supposed to. Sometimes for him this isn't only about money. 

“Babyyy!!” Your sweet voice. Baby, god, b-a-b-y. Again, weak in his knees - he'd fall on them just to eat you out if he had an appropriate moment. He hums softly, probably looking like a puppy - all his attention on your open palm.

“I bought something, but it doesn’t look good on me…” Dante raises his eyebrow, questioning your words silently. Bullshit, you look perfect in everything. And you don't seem to be in need of Lasik. 

“Impossible.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. Existence of Atlantis is much more believable right now. 

Your hand delves to the paper bag just to appear with a lacy lingerie in your hold, dark violet fabric, soft to touch and elegant curves of half transparent material would not shy to hint your nipples through it, the straps would sit on your waist leading his gaze to the underwear, the garment would hug your waist and hips so right, while bra would gently hold your tits - a Victoria's Secret model would die green out of envy. You are up to something.

“It’s so big for me…” You coo and Dante knows you are lying shamelessly. ”Dumb me didn’t try it before buying” 

“So?” 

You hum, tilting your head and nodding to point lingerie to Dante. “I think it’d look so good on you…”

His lips form a thin line, tensing after your words and eyeing you with that fabric in front of him. Conflicted, confused and half-hard. Should he deny your fun? Actually… no. First of all, he isn't insecure of his own masculinity, a lingerie and make up wouldn't make him a less man - to see you lit up is worth it too. Second point is… You give him money, buy him stuff for simple things; make you less lonely and entertain you sexually, he’d be damned to ruin your fun. And his. Dante takes lingerie in his hold, silently looking at your face to see the sparkle in your eyes - you are happy and grateful. This is enough for him. 

It is tight. He doesn't understand how, but he was able to put it on him without ripping and ruining the expensive fabric. It stays tight on his chest, the soft dark violet curves of lace press against the hard muscular skin. Squishing slightly his nipples. The horizontal strap sits on his waist, hugging his curves like it belongs here and forcing his mind to wonder with many doubts. Is his waist so narrow? Or did you just somehow measure his parameters? Appearing to your eyes in it, engulfing in the glimpse of admiration in them and you almost jump to your feet with a mascara tube in your hand. Again. Dante doesn't question, leaning to you so you’d be more comfortable to apply the black mascara to his white lashes. It emphasizes his bluish eyes. 

Ready to go. Finally.

This hits harder when you are close to get inside just to sit in the passenger seat. He stops you, no way. There are many raunchy magazines in his car, forgetting to hide them. And the lingerie is so tight against his chest, etching into his skin like thorns right now. Of course you stand next to his car - no way Dante lets you in when his car is full of his dumb and guilty pleasure - he quickly hides them under the seat before giving a nod. The road is clean and a pretty thing can get inside without him disappointing you. Dante isn't even sure if you care about that, but he is a 43 years old man still jerking off to women in those magazines - a sign of loser and if he may differ, he is not. 

Your eyes dart to his hands on the wheel. Fingerless gloves. Dante always wears gloves, he has probably an entire collection of them too. Something he didn't realize, but you did. Gifting every now and then new pairs, unfortunately your sweet intention was a failure, not to admit that those are not to his taste - they cover his finger tips. Too elegant. Formal. Fingerless gloves are the way, probably not for you, unaware how suitable they are for every situation in life. And he needs to be ready. Of course, they provide warmth for his palms, but that isn't the point of them - the most important part is that they keep his fingers ready for action. Perfect for situations where precise handling is required, such as playing with your nipples. He needs to feel them stiffen in between his fingertips as they’d roll while applying perfect pressure on the sensitive nubs. 

The road was quick or maybe Dante was trying too hard to ignore the tightness of the lingerie, weirdly enough it creates new sensations, his cock grazes on the fabric, making it harder - the same happens with his nipples. This is pleasant and shivering friction, he wishes this evening ends quicker just to fuck you into the mattress of your bed. Or of your daddy. That man probably doesn't care how you spend the money he gives you. Car stays still in the parking lot as the light of the restaurant hints at the liveliness of the place. It plays on your faces, loud voices sometimes reach you just to end up muffled by the car. His palms slap his thighs as a gesture “i'm ready to go”.

“Wait! I forgot about this” you mutter, rummaging your bag before pulling out a rose elliptical shaped object. A sex toy, a small vibrator. “Unbutton your pants.”

He raises his eyebrow before you add. “Pretty please, baby?”

With a heavy sigh, Dante does as you asked - after all, so polite and with his favorite pet name. God, he needs to finger your pussy while his lips would suck on your clit on the backseat. And with lipstick? Hell, this would be even sweeter, dirtier, the sight of red marks on your pussy would be close to an art piece. His cock twitches, half-hard glistening with precum that has been leaking all this road and tainting the fabric, inviting you to lick them away.. It throbs harder as the colder, hard surface of the toy joins, the lingerie helps it to press against the tip - holding there. Anything after leaving the car feels surreal, not so important due to the steady vibrations against his cockhead.

If someone gave him the potion of truth right now and asked what you have been talking about all this evening - he’d ask them to shoot him because he has no idea. Zero thoughts, the most perfect one too. All his focus was not on the melting food on his tongue, unfortunately neither on your cleavage nor the prices on the menu, or how people were eyeing you both. Right now, he is at the edge of cumming in his pants like a schoolboy after kissing a girl for the first time. His cock keeps leaking the precum, shifting his position just to accommodate the boner straining against the lacy lingerie underneath his pants. Not sure, still in the best case scenario his jeans would have a clear small spot. Lingerie’s straps etch into his chest tightly, there would be left red marks after that with sensitive nipples, while vibrator keeps the buzzing sensation in his body, sometimes to play with him you’d set the intensity higher just to see him try to compose himself. That sex toy can be damned, he is a 43 years old man. The first wet dream he had was years and years ago, now he feels like a young man with sperm in his brain; sensitive to every hint of breeze, to every change in your gaze and to his own movement. 

You are supposed to pay for him, which you did multiple times and today is no exception. Financial field isn't his forte, but Dante can spoil you differently. And you don't seem to mind this, you like this. So it is a jackpot.Those are your relationship with him - comfy for him, gambling isn't his best  so debts with Lady won't pay themselves. Standing there, not focused on anything other than dumb lingerie etching in his skin with additional vibrations against his tip. Dante should be given an award for enduring all this. Your palm curls on the crook of his elbow just to pull him to some hall. Before that he heard you asking something, - too unfocused to listen to you or noticing weird glances from waitresses. Whatever. You push him into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Click!

The room is a single user one, clean and gives all the necessary privacy to the client better than Devil May Cry has, that one can’t even provide the light or flush the water, thank god your money keeps rent paid. Still, not comparable to the bar ones he has been to. They aren't as clean as this one, no luxuries but only yellowish lighting and sticky floor with someone throwing up loudly in one of the stalls. Some men can't even aim right. Nor do they have the wide mirror, like this was made with the idea for mirror sex. Maybe he is overthinking this, his thoughts are not always messed up with you but tonight there is no way not to think about you. You, oh, his mind generates the sight of you in different scenarios like a rapid flash; your twisted with pleasure face, your perfectly manicured nails, the eye guiding curve of your waist to your hips and your drenched cunt, puffy lips after a long session playing with it. All this, while his eyes messily drift on you, standing in front of him and leaning back. Palms hold the edge of the cold, wide flat surface - using sink as a leverage. 

Dante leans in, lost in the desire to finally, for god’s sake kiss you but the moment ends up ruined - you tilt your head away, not giving what he needs again. 

“A kiss? Mmm…” You hum. Your hand creeps to the button of his jeans and he sighs. Anticipating the freedom from the tightness. “Today my kisses ARE expensive” 

The fly is unzipped and unbuttoned, you can see what a mess he has been making all this time; lingerie is already drenched while the toy feels sticky under your fingertips. His cock bobs to his hip, twitching in the air with many beads of pre-cum rolling down from his aching tip just begging for any kind of attention. Who are you to deny it? Eventually your hand goes in contact, and it twitches in your fist, gripping his leaking cock, painfully hard and the small vibrator is finally far away from him. He didn't notice how it got placed on the sink, a rose object tainted with traces of his precum. Your face feigns sadness, like you are disappointed to end up without kisses too. Batting your eyelashes, like butterflies’ wings. Messing with him. 

“This lipstick cost a looot…”

“A lot?” Dante muses, your hand begins slowly pumping his cock, gripping tightly while making those sweet, steady movements - up and down. He swallows down a moan. Like a thirsty man in front of a cup of water, Adam’s apple bobs as his throat feels drier than it has ever been. His eyes jump to your thighs. Warm, soft and homely - he can imagine his head in between them. 

“50 bucks.” 

“Do I look like I give a damn?” His hand creeps up to hold your jaw and leans in to pepper your cheek with kisses, leaving a heavy hot red marks as the pace becomes messier, brushing the angle of your jaw and his eyes are full with the burning need to fuck you finally. This is too much. “Spoiler, I don't. Lipstick be damned.”

You giggle as he pushes your legs apart, spreading them wider to settle in between them easily. His hips buck into your hand and you know damn well what he needs right now. It is all written on his face, with the needy glimpse in his blueish eyes as his chest rises up and down heavily. His hands travel lower, to pull the skirt of your dress higher exposing your clothed pussy. His fingers curl underneath the fabric, pulling it aside to get the glimpse of it. It glistens with your slick, strings of it clinging to the folds and begging him to drop down just to swirl his tongue or to suck on your clit. He doesn't think there is too much time to do it nor is there any intention to do that. 

With a low grunt coming from his lips, his hips messily press against your, bucking up as his cock press in between your folds - this is enough to coax out a moan, your warm wetness engulfs so softly as he grinds against your pussy in a erratic pace. Bumping your clit with his hard leaking tip, before it gets impossible to endure. He needs to be inside you. Your pussy. His tip nestles in your hole briefly, like something to heighten his need to fuck you, before slipping it inside in a slow thrust. Feeling your walls stretch across his cock as it gets deeper, clenching down on him in a tight grip engulfing him more into your warmth, as the curve of his cock presses sweetly against the spongy spot forcing your back to arch into him. Your pussy makes him dizzy, breathless even so much that Dante needs to take a pause, pulling his cock out - not entirely, leaving his tip inside you. He wants to move it in and out, over and over until all he could hear would be wet and filthy noises as your pussy would gush harder around him. Just to edge himself while a poor soul may knock on the door, but seeing your hips buck into his, trying to get his cock back inside his mind refuses to torment you. At least for tonight. His cock gets buried inside you again, dragging it back and forth, trying to keep the pace steady and his balls hit your ass after every hard slam. 

Your reflections sparkle behind you, your head rolls back and is so well visible in the mirror. His cock throbs in your pussy, leaning in to pepper your neck with the kisses, in between softly biting on the skin before his tongue laps on the reddish mark, licking away the pain. All while his gaze didn't try to drift away from your figures there. Like a porn movie without a recording - this one would hit so much differently, there would be you and it is better than any professional plastic bimbo out there. His hips rut against you roughly slowly becoming messier, all he can focus on right now is the flesh-hitting sounds mixing with wet ones too. Dante doesn't care anymore, his balls tighten with every hard slam. And your shameful moans coming from your lips, trying to keep it low. Your tits bounce with every particularly hard thrust while your pussy clenches harder in a silent plea to fill it, not only with his cock, but cum too. 

Dante is a simple man, even your silent wish is a command which he will be happy to obey.

Two and more bites on your throat, before a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. Your body shudders eventually too, as your walls spasm harder around him with the crushing wave of orgasm hitting you both, pleasant shockwaves dumb every thought in the head. His cock throbbed, finally spurting ropes of cum into you. The warm cum fills your pussy almost to the brim, and his mind is blank - there is a bliss written all over his face, his lips are parted. It is exhausting, flesh-hitting sounds are not heard anymore, replacing them with heavy panting. Trying to recover faster than you usually do.

It was quick, but you came too. Still, feeling like a dumb puppy that has done something wrong, he wants to apologize. For what? For cumming inside you so fast, but a quicker kiss on his lips dissipates that torment. Dante’s eyes dart around the walls, the corners of them just to check if there are any possible cameras. He rushed in again, shamelessly fucking you in some restaurant’s bathroom - what if it is recorded now? God, some lucky bastard would be jerking off of your moans and pretty face. You notice his frown, brushing your hand over his chest while looking at him through your eyelashes.

“There are no cameras, babe,” Your words calm the tempest that was forming in his chest. “it’d be illegal to install them in a bathroom.” Who is he to question your words anyway? With relief, he stretches his body even slightly. A loud rip can be heard and with it the tightness around his chest is gone too. Oops. You are much stronger than him to endure uncomfortable clothing for hours with layers of makeup. He prefers his women without it anyway.

[astra-ravana]

Just Add Chaos

Chaos magick is a contemporary magickal practice that embraces the unpredictable nature of the Universe and harnesses its energy for personal growth and transformation. By incorporating the element of chaos into your witchcraft, you can tap into a powerful, natural force that can both challenge and inspire you.

Chaos magick rejects rigid structures and encourages you to forge your own path. It involves working with uncertainty and the unpredictable, rather than seeking to control. Chaos can be a potent source of energy, both creative and destructive, harmful and healing. It is something moving and intelligent, an element of nature that can be tapped into.

Principles of Chaos

These are some of the principles and ideas commonly acknowledged in the practice of chaos magick.

• The Butterfly Effect

• Unpredictability/uncertainty

• Order/disorder

• Gnosis

• Mixing turbulence/nonlinear dynamics

• Feedback

• Fractals

• Strange attractors

• Complex/simple

• Self-similarity

• Spectrums/layers

• Synchronization

• Yin/Yang

• Randomness

Chaotic Practices

Incorporating chaos into your magick isn't hard, yet letting go of control can be. Try to remember that chaos is all around us, all the time. It affects our lives and the world around us. It is within you already and it is yours to utilize. Chaos magick itself embraces multiple practices and systems including, but not limited to:

• Sigils/symbols- Creating/using intentioned sigils for any purpose imaginable

• Numerology- Harnessing both the power and randomness of numbers

• Invocation- Summoning and empowering the spirits, deities, and energies around us

• Enchantment/spellcasting- Invigorating spells with the raw energy of chaos

• Servitor creation- Chaos births spirits of purpose and intent at the hand of skilled practitioners

• Trance/meditation/gazing- Letting the chaos of your mind fuel your own enlightenment

• Music/chants/incantations- Tuning into the frequency of chaos with words and melodies

Correspondences

Colors: Red and blue, rainbow

Herbs: Wormwood, henbane, mustard seed, pokeweed, mayflower, hemlock, mandrake, blue bell, lobelia, mistletoe, blueberry, poppy, apple, wolfsbane, chicory, angelica, boneset, mugwort, bittersweet, saffron

Crystals: Moldavite, labradorite, opal, pietersite, apophyllite, rainbow obsidian, bloodstone, malachite, phenacite, rainbow tourmaline, herkimer diamond, arfedsonite, garnet, corundum, agate, fire quartz

Planets: Uranus, Pluto, Mars

Deities/Spirits: Eris, Loki, Set, Paimon, Tiamat, Leviathan, Asmoday, Ptah, Zagan, Apophis, Dionysus

Animals: Wolves, butterflies, snakes, cats, crows, spiders, monkies, octopi, badgers, raccoons, foxes, opossums, rabbits, coyotes, ravens

Embracing Chaos

Many fear chaos due to their perceived lack of control involving it but it is simply another element of the universe. It exists regardless of how you feel about it. So why not invite it into your magickal practice? Why not embrace it fully as the natural occurrence it is and take advantage of it as we would a full moon or a lightning storm. The presence of chaos does not mean an absence of calm, as there is an eye to every storm. You are the eye and the storm, chaos is already within you. Let it free.

[team7-headquarter]

Team 7 is for the fans who can stomach complex and interesting relationships that evolve with time and follow a nonlinear progress.

They're some of the most traumatized individuals in Konoha and one girl who has zero preparation to deal with it. Compared to Team 7, all the other teams were normal. Neji was a slave and Hinata was neglected, but they still had their clan around them, okay? Even when Rock Lee was probably a bullied orphan, his story is closer to Sakura's at worst. Everyone else had healthy families or they were at least regular people.

Do I really have to make emphasis on the Team 7 men's backgrounds? It is a miracle they were as "normal" as they were. It is a miracle only Sasuke became an antagonist.

If you don't like Team 7's dynamic that's okay. It is your opinion and everyone is entitled to have one. But don't claim they didn't care about each other like it is a fact. They do not have perfectly healthy relationships, but it doesn't mean they don't care or that they don't consider each other important. They live in a highly militarized world that they struggle to comprehend because the system has targeted them since they were kids. They didn't have the benefit of a family who taught them or gave them a good example on social behaviors (yes, even Sakura— her parents are nonexistent and irrelevant to the canon).

Sasuke used to have a clan and you can see it in the way he first interacted as a kid with Naruto and Sakura. His behavior afterward was a direct result of political machinations that were in place from the very beginning of the Shinobi world. It's the same with Naruto; Sakura and Sasuke were his first friends after a life of having no one, so of course he is "obsessed" with them. Kakashi Lost everyone and then they make him responsible for the saddest + most problematic kids in Konoha. Sai was tortured and trained to dismiss feelings and he had to learn how to smile. Sakura was a normal 12 years old girl forced to navigate those circumstances and guess what: it was their model of friendship she adopted. Her friendship with Ino was somehow chill (friends who could have been codependent, but rather become rivals so they could both grow on their own), but that was her only friendship and the influence and impact of a life with Team 7 was too great for her not to adapt herself to it.

Yamato is the normal one. That's how insane the situation is...

Maybe in another life Sasuke and Naruto could have the childhood friendship of Shikamaru and Choji or the type of chill rivalry between Neji and Rock Lee. Maybe in a world where they didn't have the fate of the world on their shoulders, they were more normal. Maybe in that universe Sakura would have been properly guided so she doesn't believe her growth is only measured in beauty or making a boy notice her; maybe she would be confident enough as a child to better navigate her friendship with Sasuke and Naruto, instead of having to learn it through trial and error. Maybe Sai would have grown with the social tools to be in a no-awkward friendship, maybe he'd openly connect with others through art and not insults. Maybe Kakashi's regrets would be less and their weight wouldn't hamper on his ability to connect with his students. Maybe his own PTSD would not stand in the way.

As it is, Team 7 is full of individuals who fight for the right to form connections despite the odds being against them. They hold to each other with both hands despite the fact it'd be easier and less painful to let the other die. They don't care if their friendship is not perfect, they still want it.

It's unhealthy, it's insane, they shouldn't have to do it, but they want to. Because. They. Care.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

WELCOME TO M1CKEYB3RRY’S DEVELOPMENT HELL EVENT!! 🔥

in honor of nagi’s upcoming birthday and untimely death i am whipping out every single failed attempt i have ever made at writing him over the past year and allowing you (yes, YOU 🫵���) to request one lucky fave to get the chance to be written in that au instead! (wips listed after the cut for ease of reference and so you all know which ones are taken)

my general request rules are in my pinned post please look there first!! but here are some event specific additions ^^

what fandom you can request for: honkai star rail sorry i’m not feeling up to dusting off my muscles for any other fandoms atm

will requests be related to the wips: not really LMAO besides having like. the same very very basic setting. this is really just me making fun of my inability to write something for my all time favorite character

who can request: anyone idgaf (although you may prefer being off anon so you get a notif when i answer your ask because i am nothing if not a slow poster) however once the slots are closed they are closed with little to no exceptions!!

which characters you can NOT request for: moze (haven’t met his ass), anaxa (haven’t met his ass), jiaoqiu (haven’t met his ass), sampo (don’t like him), ??? (just send me an ask i’ll tell you if i don’t fw it/haven’t met that character yet)

how long will each request be: only god and seishiro nagi himself can answer this one

peregrine — the classic. sigh. first fic i ever wrote for bllk. truly thought it would get done but here we are a year later and we don’t even know if reader likes nagi or not so…modern au [taken by dr. ratio!]

pursuit — once the goat of this blog in its own right. nagi was lowkey a side character in his own fic but it’s fine because he would have gotten the baddie (reader) in the end (if i ever ended it). several memes made about this one and very many arcs planned that only made sense in my mind…pokémon au [taken by aventurine!]

roadkill — THIS WOULD’VE BEEN PEAK if only i didn’t have the idea right before getting out of bllk and becoming a hsr fan instead JFKDJNDN it had all of the ingredients…angst…nonlinear narratives…trauma…character death…post-war 1900s-esque fantasy au [taken by luocha!]

unicorn au — arising from the infamous my little pony drawing of nagi i once did but i swear i am not a freak it’s just a last unicorn au (like. the movie “the last unicorn”) LMAO however not all characters give unicorn to me so i will leave this one as a more general category…fantasy au [taken by blade!]

bonus! if you are a mutual and we interact with some frequency you also have the option of the knight au — featuring power dynamics that fourteen year olds might cancel me for if i’m not careful, devotion, and phallic metaphors swords galore!! [taken by phainon!]

[flyingwargle]

september fanfic recs!

check out the previous months' recs: july, august

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

your hands (pressed to my cheeks)

t. 2.9k. lovely fluff and soft domestic sakuatsu for the soul.

this too, has changed

t. 6.4k. sakuatsu childhood friends agenda! it was so sweet, and their reunion at the end was *chef's kiss*

dog eat dog eat dog world

t. 8.4k. introspective piece in sakusa's pov about atsumu and their eventual getting together.

where i want to be

t. 8.8k. oooh boy i loved this. sakusa offers to share his bed with atsumu but isn't used to it and sleeps on the couch and atsumu takes it the wrong way. loved the hurt/comfort, the fluff, and eventual resolution.

curse breaking

t. 9.2k. 2/2. atsumu is giving sakusa the silent treatment and he doesn't know why. also includes glimpses of their established relationship, which is portrayed in such a soft and affectionate way <3 the sequel, phantasm, is also just as soft and beautiful.

soft landing in a crater heart

g. 9.9k. sakusa confesses to atsumu right before atsumu leaves to play overseas. lovely mutual pining and a reunion that made me swoon. beautiful writing too!

Spit

e. 12.2k. 3/3 part of a series where atsumu has an eating disorder and body dysmorphia and sakusa is a loving partner. this particular one is nsfw but full of body worship and love <3

Miya Atsumu, Only Man Ever

e. 13.9k. first: sakusa and hinata friendship? yes. second: sakusa being down bad for atsumu? yes. hilarious premise, and sakusa gets his man in the end. loved this!

On Public Affaires And Private Affections

t. 14.1k. in which everyone thinks sakusa and atsumu are in a relationship (they aren't) and no one thinks hinata and kageyama are in a relationship (they are). the slowburn was so good and the build-up was amazing. loved every minute of this.

shadow play

e. 14.7k. 3/3. atsumu is tired of hookups and decides to throw money onto an adult site to watch a camboy named umeboshi. i think you know where this will go 👀 i loved the writing, the mystery, the eventual coming together. beautiful details and art too!

cut the conversation, just open your mouth

e. 16.2k. nonlinear sakuatsu fwb narrative where they both catch feelings. i swear i can come up with a whole list of recs for this specific flavor of sakuatsu.

morpheus

m. 18.2k. 3/3. atsumu's dreams are filled with sakusa but they're intrusive to the point that he can't sleep. they eventually get together. this was filled with amazing imagery and metaphors, one of my favorites <3

even my cats think we'd be good together

t. 22.6k. 2/2. FLUFF OVERLOAD! sakusa owns a cat cafe and hires atsumu as a full-time worker. slowburn with lots and lots of cats and so many people calling sakusa out on his obliviousness.

Miya Atsumu, Adored By All (loved by some)

t. 41.1k. 2/2. first: atsumu can knit? yes. second: atsumu gets the man and all the hugs? yes. insecure atsumu is also a flavor of atsumu that i love and this was done so, so well!

And Foxes will Lie

m. 86.7k. 17/17. mafia au with such a complex plot and intricate character dynamics. the whole time i was reading, i was in awe that this?? is free?? i love longfic writers 🛐 check it out for amazing twists, suspenseful mystery, and ofc, endgame sakuatsu (with other amazing side ships and relationships)

sunaosa

frying pans

g. 4.3k. first: best summary ever (i'd include it but it's slightly too long for brief commentary haha) and second: osamu takes suna's sister to disneyland and she sasses the living hell out of him. amazing. i also really loved kindling, the sequel <3

(if you're wondering if i want you to) i want you to

not rated. 5.2k. ginjima shares a link to a google form that's a poll to vote for the best miya and he reads some of the comments aloud. osamu starts wondering if suna wrote one of the comments, and he's right. love the premise, the getting together, and the friendship.

long way home

e. 15.5k. it takes suna 6 years to realize what osamu means to him while sleeping with him throughout. we love and support an emotionally constipated suna in this house.

The Loss We Learned

t. 41.6k. 8/8. suna and osamu break up after a nasty argument, lose contact for 5 years, until they see each other again. i loved the hurt/comfort, the gradual awkwardness melting away to perhaps rekindling the relationship again, and how time played a part. beautifully written also!

bokuaka

I once was lost but now I'm found

g. 3.4k. bokuto gets lost in a corn maze and akaashi goes to rescue him. very cute and endearing premise, and lovely character interactions.

I'll give a bouquet to these unending days

g. 6.5k. a spin on his attendance to the msby vs. adlers match where akaashi is repressing his emotions and bokuto takes a step closer toward him. i loved, loved, LOVED the imagery and characterization, my gourd. gorgeous writing.

iwaoi

Like One of Your French Girls

e. 4k. oikawa needles iwa into sleeping with him. peak awkward iwaoi, i enjoyed it!

no love like your love

t. 9.8k. iwaoi through the years with outsider povs. i love outsider pov fics of developing relationships and these povs are all varied and nuanced. loved them all!

i grew up, you grew down

t. 19.7k. 2/2. my gourd, this fic. oikawa retires and promptly falls off the face of social media to hermit at iwa's place. idiots to lovers with paparazzi and social media scandals. also explores "what next?" after volleyball in such a poignant way.

my heart is where it's always been

not rated. 21.1k. 4/4. iwa learns that oikawa is pining after someone and it takes him 4 chapters to realize that he's pining for oikawa, too.

other

Bunk Beds

t. 3.7k. miya twins hurt/comfort after a traumatic incident in osamu's pov. excellent writing and comfort, we love and respect the twins in this house.

one day, felt it let go of me

g. 4.2k. i really needed natsu being adopted by all of hinata's past rivals and friends in sendai to learn volleyball from them. i need more natsu in general, honestly.

Of Beers and Epiphanies

t. 4.6k. kagehina. kageyama visits hinata in brazil and hinata may have confessed to him in portuguese? loved the language shenanigans and eventual coming together.

the body you become

t. 5.5k. miwa pov about growing up with kageyama, the loss they endured, and her big sister instincts. we love wholesome sibling relationships in this house.

A helping hand

t. 6k. kagehina. natsu tag-teams with miwa to get their brothers together. very cute, we stan supportive sisters in this house.

you're the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway)

t. 14.9k. kuroken. i feel like every month, i read a banger kuroken fic, and i'm all for it. kenma goes through the 5 stages of grief about his crush on kuroo but eventually gets his man <3

Below Destiny

g. 15.5k. daichi tries to get ennoshita to accept the captain position after him but ennoshita is Not Having It. amazing writing and character study, with karasuno-typical shenanigans.

[homestuckreplay]

“1TS WH4T MY CH4R4CT3R WOULD DO” – terezi probably

(page 2052-2065)

I’m enjoying Act 5 a lot so far, but the writing style has definitely changed. Its narrative text is directed more towards the reader, with asides making references a reader might know, but the trolls definitely don’t – for example, ‘your WALKING CANE, which you use as a weapon kind of like Earth Daredevil who you've never heard of’ (p.2052). The story is still in the second person, but there’s some distance between the ‘you’ and the troll we’re supposedly inhabiting, which there wasn’t with the kids, so I feel slightly more detached from the story.

Act 5 is also using a new kind of nonlinear storytelling. I know that saying ‘Homestuck is introducing nonlinear storytelling’ is basically like saying ‘there’s starting to be some problems in the world’, but this is different. In earlier acts, there have been occasional flash forwards or flashbacks, and times when the kids’ storylines are out of sync with each other but each proceeding linearly. Act 5’s cuts to the trolls in the Medium and back to before they play the game are basically like how the trolls interact with the kids’ timeline. The trolls’ whole story is already laid out, we know where it ends, so the ‘player’ is picking and choosing interesting points in their timeline to jump between and interact with.

When we reach a Pesterlog from Terezi’s perspective that’s already happened from Gamzee’s/the reader’s, it’s not recreated in full – we just see the first few lines, and then there’s a link to the earlier page. Again this is different from the kids’, whose Pesterlogs have always been shown in full from both sides (for example, Rose and Dave on page 522 and 611). Which definitely suggests there will be a LOT of jumping around and repeated chatlogs, and makes the sequence of pages itself nonlinear, as the hyperlinks make much bigger jumps than just going forward or back a single page.

Every kid’s entry into the Medium so far has been a pretty big deal, and with the giant meteor still looming over her house in ‘[S] Descend’, I think Jade’s will be too. With the trolls, the story is all business. Terezi mentions getting killed by meteors and a ‘WHOL3 CONSP1R4CY’ about Sburb almost offhand (p.2061), there’s no alchemy binge for Karkat besides a single Fresh Prince of Bel-Air themed sickle, and the lands are introduced with a single image instead of a cool flash, all of which contributes to the different feel of Act 5.

^ johnkat real?

GC: *SHE […] SP34KS TH3 4NC13NT TONGU3 OF 4 THOUS4ND W1SDOMS* GC: *SH3 S4YS:* GC: H3Y DO YOU W4NT TO PL4Y 4 G4M3 W1TH M3? (p.2055)

^ the ancient tongue of a thousand wisdoms being about playing a game is a great summary of Homestuck as a whole tbh

This update introduces a NEW TROLL, Terezi’s roleplay partner arsenicCatnip! She’s basically a Warrior Cats roleplayer, equal parts feral/bloodthirsty like a wildcat and cute/caring like a housecat. She’s also got a weird dynamic going with another troll who’s only referenced, who she has to ‘get purrmission’ from to play Sburb and is ‘kind of scared of’ (p.2055) – in an obviously cutthroat world like Alternia it’s not surprising that interpersonal relationships fall prey to serious power dynamics, but still, I hope she is okay. I noticed AC only mentions getting permission when Terezi mentions the team aspect of Sburb, so perhaps it’s a specific friend that this mystery troll doesn’t want AC to spend time with.

I love the idea of Terezi and AC roleplaying together, but unfortunately, Terezi is not a good collaborative roleplayer. She has no commitment to a shared scenario and isn’t picking up on the boundaries AC is pretty clearly setting down. AC can hold her own pretty well and the scenario ends well, but Terezi’s violence and control in this scenario doesn’t set her up well as a good leader for the red team.

And she is definitely manipulating Karkat when he contacts her about Sburb. It seems clear that she sees the server player as the game’s real leader, as it gives her control over Karkat’s environment while he has to do the hard work running around and controlling monsters. She also knows much more about the game than he does, so she’s able to frame this the opposite way and make him want to be the client, and she mixes fake-flirting, fake-not caring and possibly real insanity to get her intended reactions. Her superior knowledge + manipulation mean she interacts with Karkat the same way she’ll later interact with the beta kids. When Karkat asks her to explain the deal with Sburb, she replies ‘1 C4NT! / 1 GOTT4 ST3P OUT OF TH3 TR33 FOR 4 MOM3NT’ (p.2061) which is a move Karkat will steal when interacting with John and trying to get out of a conversation. It’s pretty funny when Karkat does it because I know he’s stuck on a meteor and doesn’t need to go anywhere, and it’s just interesting to see the kid-troll dynamics recreated (predicted?) between two trolls.

Terezi and Karkat hint at some new Alternian technology: ‘lusus’, ‘lawnring’, and ‘culled’ (p.2058), the last of which could possibly link to a yet-unseen troll, cuttlefishCuller. Culling is the selective killing of animals, often for population control or to eliminate disease, and here it’s applied to trolls too, but there’s no details of the role it plays in society. ‘Lawnring’ seems like the Alternian equivalent of a yard – looking at Karkat’s neighborhood again, there are literal grassy rings around the hives (p.2003), plus as a John parallel it makes sense for Karkat to have a typical suburban hive. This means that Terezi’s ‘SCR3W L4WNR1NGS’ attitude (p.2058) is a criticism of mainstream Alternian society, and an assertion of her decision to live outside it. That’s a decision she’s been able to make for herself, instead of being forced into a given living situation like the beta kids. ‘Lusus’ I have no idea what it could mean, but it’s another thing Terezi doesn’t have, or doesn’t have yet, that seems to be fairly common for trolls.

Terezi also has some kind of fascination with blood, asking Karkat what color his is (??) and promising to ‘F1ND OUT SOM3 D4Y’ (p.2061), which is about as ominous as adiosToreador mentioning that dream selves can die and then telling Jade to enjoy her nap ‘wHILE IT LASTS,’ (p.1936). Terezi was also asking Dave what his blood smells like, and has been ‘SO CUR1OUS’ about ‘WH4T HUM4N BLOOD T4ST3S L1K3’ (p.1935). Even pre-Sburb her interest in violence clearly goes way beyond stuffed animals, like she wants to know how it feels to inflict that same violence on a living creature, but just hasn’t had that chance yet.

GC: H4V3 YOU T4LK3D TO 44 CG: 44 WHAT? GC: 4POC4LYPS34R1S3N SORRY (p.2061)

^ this is a VERY funny use of terezi’s typing style. hey, one day she’ll be able to mention talking to ‘3B’!

In the last few pages of the update there’s another troll, bringing the TTV (Total Troll Visuals) to 6, halfway! This troll is probably apocalypseArisen, the red of her shirt matching that name on the Chumproll, and her symbol corresponding to Aries. Some people have mentioned that 4/13 lands in Aries, making her a potentially important troll. 6/12 lands in Gemini, which is twinArmageddons, and TA adapted the code to Sburb from some ‘crazy technology AA dug out of 2ome ruiin2’ (p.2027) so there could be something to this theory.

AA has a frog temple of her own – probably the aforementioned ruins – which has six pillars instead of four (those numbers again)! So the frog ruins are a universal Sburb construct, and every planet which will one day play Sburb gets a frog temple sent to the birth of its civilization to later unearth the code? This one probably didn’t contain a Bec, as he seems like a specific quirk of the kids’ session.

AA feels compelled to destroy the frog temple, acting on instinct though she doesn’t know why. Interestingly the kids’ frog temple was beheaded too, although not until the exiles’ time (p.1359) – perhaps any doomed session will also have its temple destroyed in some form. The Aimless Renegade considers frogs ‘illegal’ (p.1100, 1910) and works for Derse, so could it be possible that AA has already awoken on Derse the same way Jade already awoke on Prospit, and is receiving whispers from the gods of the Furthest Ring telling her to destroy anything frog themed?

It is easy to imagine AA receiving eldritch whispers as she looks just like a weird girl in a horror movie, with her long flowing hair, spooky white eyes, ripped clothes contrasted with neat schoolgirl socks and shoes, telekinetic powers, the very image of a once-’good girl’ now corrupted by dark psychic forces. It would be very fun for her to be a big horror movie fan who enjoys re-enacting her favorite films to spook her friends, so I’m crossing my fingers we’ll meet and learn more about her tomorrow.

[abbotjack]

hey syd, how do you find the motivation to write?

you’ve blessed up with so many back to back hits and i can’t even finish my own drafts 😅

Ahhh, thank you so much for this message—it genuinely means a lot. I wish I could say the process is romantic or graceful, like “I light a candle and the words arrive fully formed,” but the truth is messier. So here’s a long, detailed, probably-too-honest breakdown of what actually keeps me writing!

1. Music as Architecture: Scoring the Scene Before It Exists

I don’t begin with plot. I begin with sound.

Music is the first language of my writing process. Before dialogue, before imagery, even before character voices settle into clarity, I reach for music—not as inspiration, but as foundation. The emotional resonance of a piece doesn’t come from what’s written first. It comes from what’s felt—and for me, that feeling is almost always coaxed into being by sound.

I build playlists with intention. They’re not background noise; they are, in effect, blueprints. Emotional schematics. Each playlist becomes a kind of private score to the story I’m trying to tell. Some are curated around character dynamics—slow-burn tension, fractured intimacy, long-restrained grief—while others are arranged around the arc of a chapter, a specific moment of revelation, or the rhythm of a confrontation that’s been building for pages.

One I return to frequently is my playlist titled romance coded songs for daydreaming. This collection isn’t simply romantic. It’s devotional. Every track pulses with ache, ambiguity, restraint, or surrender. Some are quiet, constructed in whispers and unresolved chords. Others swell—full-bodied and orchestral, like they were made to echo under dialogue. When I select a track for a scene, I’m not choosing something that sounds good—I’m choosing something that understands what the characters aren’t saying.

For example, while drafting a scene in which two characters finally acknowledge the emotional undercurrent they’ve spent chapters avoiding, I played “Youth” by Daughter on loop. The song's structure—soft beginnings, the build of vulnerability, the percussive collapse—mirrored the emotional terrain I needed the scene to follow. I structured paragraphs according to tempo. I paid attention to the way a sentence would feel if it mirrored the minor-key drop in the second verse. There was no outline for that moment—just the music, and the emotional proximity it allowed.

This is also how I build character tone. Jack Abbot, for instance, exists in a soundscape of restraint. His musical profile is sparse but deliberate. If a song has too many layers, it doesn’t fit him. He’s percussion and silence. He’s a baritone voice that almost breaks but never quite does. His playlist includes Nick Cave, Rhye, Radiohead, and Wye Oak. All of it low-register. All of it waiting.

Contrast that with someone like Robby, whose emotional landscape is much more open. His playlist includes acoustic guitar, brighter chords, vocal warmth. Writing him requires a different tempo entirely. The music doesn’t just help me define them—it helps me understand how they would inhabit the same silence differently. How Jack holds a pause versus how Robby lets one go.

Music is also what allows me to keep emotional continuity across chapters, especially when writing nonlinear drafts. If I leave a scene mid-emotion, I don’t always re-read it to find my way back in. I re-listen. Because tone can’t always be rebuilt from language alone. It needs something more primal—more bodily. The right song can take me back to the exact moment where I left a heartbeat hanging.

In many ways, music becomes a form of narrative foreshadowing. I will sometimes build a playlist that reflects where the story is going emotionally before I know the plot itself. This keeps the work honest. If the writing starts to deviate from the emotional logic of the music, I know I’ve veered too far. I follow the sound back to the truth of the characters.

Music also helps me write with silence. It teaches me how to use negative space, how to withhold, how to let a moment breathe. It’s the difference between telling the reader what happens, and letting them feel it arrive.

Writing without music, for me, would be like shooting a film without sound design. You could still see the action—but you’d lose the atmosphere, the friction, the undertow.

So I don’t start with plot. I start by listening. Because long before I can write a scene that feels right, I have to hear it.

2. Pinterest as Visual Architecture: Designing Mood, Movement, and Authority Before the First Line Is Written

I don’t use Pinterest as a wishful archive or a vague 'vibe check'—I use it as a method of composition. Visual curation, for me, is not decorative. It is foundational. Each board is a map of the world I’m building—not just aesthetically, but narratively. I approach Pinterest the way a director would approach a set designer or a cinematographer: what does this space communicate before the character even speaks? What are the silent cues? What does the light do in this corner? Where does the weight live?

When I began writing Irregularities, I knew immediately that the physical world needed to feel sharp. Unforgiving. As precise as the main character’s walk, and as deliberate as the silence she carries. So I built a Pinterest board that wasn’t just about hospitals—it was about posture, texture, and implied dominance. I titled the sub-board “Administrative Quiet"

Let’s walk through how that board became the scene.

The excerpt begins:

Hospitals don’t go quiet. Not really...

This sentence was written after pinning a photo of a long, fluorescent-lit hallway—no patients in sight, just two glass doors and a printer humming in the corner. The stillness wasn’t peaceful. It was artificial. Held. You could feel the machinery beneath it. I pinned images of empty waiting rooms at 7:00 AM, beige walls and clipped blinds, ceiling panels lit with a blue-cast flicker. These weren’t emotionally neutral images—they were controlled. Sanitized. And that control shaped the language. That’s why I wrote, “the rhythm of a city-sized machine trying to look composed.” That image didn’t come from thin air—it came from a visual impression of effortful order, translated into prose.

Now the wardrobe:

Navy slacks, pressed. Ivory blouse, tucked. The black wool coat draped over your arm has been folded just so...

These lines are not just about clothing—they are about a constructed silhouette. I collected visual references of professional women in muted palettes—navy, ivory, charcoal—clothes that didn’t distract, but restrained. I noted how the lapel of a wool coat holds shape, how it creases with shoulder pressure on public transit. One image I pinned showed a woman in a government building, coat folded over her arm, face out of frame. What struck me wasn’t her expression—it was the control of her body language. No movement wasted. Everything designed to convey competency, not comfort.

This is what Pinterest offers: the vocabulary of nonverbal narrative. The reader doesn’t need to be told that this character has command. They can see it—in the lanyard clipped at the sternum, in the pen nested into the coil of the ledger notebook. These are visual indicators of someone whose presence is already telling the story.

The bag she carries? Not a briefcase. Not a tote. A leather bag, weighed down. I found images of field auditors and corporate compliance officers. What they carried was always functional. Heavy. Slung across the body like they were going into quiet battle. One particularly striking image was a government agent seated with their bag propped beside them, the weight pulling it slightly off-balance.

That image informed the line:

“...weighed down with printed ledgers and a half-dozen highlighters—color-coded in a way no one but you understands.”

Because that’s what her role demands: control not only of space, but of systems. Pinterest allowed me to see that system before writing it.

Even the typography in the line—

“Your name, printed clean in black sans serif.”

—was sourced. I pinned dozens of ID badge photos: hospital badges, federal agency badges, corporate visitor tags. Nearly all of them used a specific visual code: sans serif fonts, barcode beneath, matte finish. No frills. No decoration. Just clarity. That clarity carried over into the tone. The badge doesn’t say anything emotional, but it communicates status. The reader understands who she is by the way the badge is described, not because the badge tells them.

The final image that tied the board together—and became the spine of the entire scene—was one of a woman standing alone at a reception desk, her hand resting lightly on the counter, eyes not visible. The posture said everything: I don’t need to announce myself. You already know why I’m here. That photograph became the emotional thesis of the audit character. It became the justification for this line:

“You’re the audit. The walk, the clothes, the quiet. It’s all part of the package.”

That sentence came from studying how power moves silently. Pinterest didn’t just provide aesthetics. It gave me an understanding of what not to write. She doesn’t have to be cruel. She doesn’t have to be loud. She’s effective because she doesn’t overperform.

This is how Pinterest operates in my process: as visual dramaturgy. It gives me the syntax of a room before a character steps into it. It teaches me how to build authority without exposition. It reveals the emotional texture of materials and shows me how those textures affect posture, sound, breath.

By the time I sat down to write the passage, I already knew what kind of pen she’d use. I knew where the weight of her coat would shift on her arm as she walked. I knew what the receptionist would feel, even if he said nothing. Because I had already seen it all—in images, arranged not by color, but by function.

Writing begins long before the first sentence. For me, it begins in images. And Pinterest gives me the scaffolding I need to make the emotional structure of a scene visibly inevitable.

3. Women’s & Gender Studies as Emotional Infrastructure: Writing Through the Lens of Power, Silence, and Embodiment

My Women’s & Gender Studies minor is not a separate thread from my writing—it is the framework that holds the emotional weight of my stories. The way I write intimacy, the way I construct silence between characters, the way I describe bodies without flattening them into objects of narrative convenience—all of that stems from the work I’ve done studying gender, sexuality, emotional labor, and power dynamics across disciplines.

In many ways, WGS gave me the vocabulary to write what I already felt. It gave shape to my instincts. It gave structure to the things I knew were meaningful but didn’t yet know how to articulate—especially in scenes where meaning isn’t built through plot, but through closeness, discomfort, observation, and restraint. It taught me that you don’t always need to narrate the explosion. You can write the tension in the room before the match is lit—and that can be just as devastating.

One of the most formative experiences I’ve had in this program came through a seminar on Love and LGBTQ+ Literature, where we read Jeanette Winterson’s Written on the Body. That novel changed the way I think about character voice, emotional intimacy, and the unspoken power of desire.

The narrator of Written on the Body is never gendered. You don’t know who they are in terms of identity markers—only that they are grieving, longing, remembering. What Winterson does is strip away everything the reader might use as shorthand. You can’t rely on gender to code meaning. You can’t default to assumptions about power. Instead, you have to engage with the emotional architecture itself: how the narrator touches, how they hesitate, what they remember and what they can’t forgive.

There’s a moment in the book where the narrator writes:

“Why is the measure of love loss?”

That line, more than almost any I’ve ever read, defines what I try to capture in my work. Not just love as presence, but love as aftermath. As damage. As absence. It’s the question that haunts every emotionally repressed character I write. Jack Abbot doesn’t confess easily. He doesn’t live in declarations. He lives in restraint, in the tremble under control. And when I write him, I’m thinking not about what he says—but what he avoids. What he notices and doesn’t act on. What he would rather bury than admit. Those choices are not arbitrary. They are gendered. They are socialized. And they are shaped by a framework of masculinity that I’ve spent years studying critically.

WGS taught me that emotion is never neutral. That every expression of feeling—especially in professional, clinical, or institutional settings—is shaped by larger systems of power. When a woman hesitates before raising her voice in a hospital hallway, that’s not just personal—it’s systemic. When a man over-explains something he’s already decided, that’s not just characterization—it’s training. My education in WGS allows me to embed these dynamics into my writing without ever needing to spell them out. I let them live in the dialogue. In the blocking. In the interruptions.

It also taught me how to write the body—not as spectacle, but as memory. As site. As language. In trauma-informed narratives, I think constantly about the concept of embodiment: how a character holds their own history, how they experience space, how they control or surrender their physical presence depending on who is watching. A scar isn’t just a scar. A hand held too long isn’t just affection—it’s permission, or protest, or confession. These small gestures carry the weight of entire emotional arcs.

In scenes like the trauma bay in Irregularities, where the power dynamic is unstable but unspoken, I write through the lens of perception and structural tension. Jack doesn’t order her to follow him—he invites her in a tone sharp enough to double as a challenge. And she accepts, not because she’s obedient, but because she understands that to hold power in a space like his, she has to first observe it on its own terms. That’s the heart of feminist narrative structure: the refusal to flatten power into domination, and the insistence on showing how it moves—quietly, relationally, through invitation and resistance.

She’s not trained for trauma. Her authority isn’t built for blood. But she enters the space with something equally dangerous: institutional clarity. Audit folder to chest. Posture rigid but controlled. She doesn’t flinch—not when the man flatlines, not when Jack cracks the chest open, not when the room shudders beneath its own adrenaline. This is not the traditional arc of a woman proving she’s strong enough to be “one of the boys.” It’s not about toughness. It’s about refusing to be displaced. Staying. Watching. Speaking when it matters.

And when she does speak, it’s surgical: “If you’re going to override a standard OR protocol in front of a compliance officer, you might want to narrate it for the notes.” That’s not sarcasm. That’s labor. That’s a woman doing the intellectual work of keeping systems accountable even when the system is breaking in real time. It’s not framed as a dramatic triumph. It’s woven into the room’s rhythm. That is what my WGS education gave me: the ability to stage systemic critique as lived experience, not speechmaking.

The tension between them is not romance—not yet. It’s structural. Gendered. Bureaucratic. He saves lives. She tracks what it costs. He performs heroism beneath policy; she protects the institution by demanding transparency. But the beauty of that scene isn’t in their conflict—it’s in the recognition. The moment he stops seeing her as an enemy and starts seeing her as a witness. A woman who does not flinch when power becomes visceral. A woman who wants the truth not to punish him, but to understand the logic beneath the violation.

That’s WGS on the page. Not a lecture. Not a slogan. But a moment of shared exhaustion between a man with blood on his sleeves and a woman with ink-stained hands—both fighting to keep a system alive in different ways. And neither of them willing to back down.

WGS also gives me access to the emotional language of refusal. Not every love story is a yes. Some are a near-miss. A repetition. A delay. Some characters don’t change, not because they are underdeveloped, but because they were never taught how. Writing that kind of character—especially a man—is often seen as a risk. But in WGS spaces, I learned to see that as realism. As tragedy. As the cost of structural silence.

And then there’s this: WGS trained me to read literature with historical precision and emotional context. I don’t read romance without thinking about labor. I don’t write desire without considering who’s allowed to want out loud and who isn’t. When I craft a scene between two people who are falling apart in slow motion, it’s not just about heartbreak. It’s about who is allowed to grieve and how. That framing changes everything.

So yes—my WGS minor is academic. But it’s also intimate. It’s present in the cadence of a hospital hallway scene. It’s in the way a woman adjusts her sleeve before speaking. It’s in how Jack Abbot lingers outside the door, hand resting on the frame, saying nothing. And it’s in the way a reader feels something tighten in their chest when that silence is finally broken.

4. How to Read Literature Like a Professor as Narrative Blueprint: Grief, Space, and the Unsaid in The House She Left You

Thomas C. Foster’s How to Read Literature Like a Professor is not just a guide for decoding fiction—it’s a manual for building resonance. When I write, especially something as emotionally dense and grief-stricken as The House She Left You, I’m not just writing characters or scenes. I’m constructing a layered system of symbols, silences, spaces, and ruptures that mean more than they say. Foster’s framework reminds me that meaning is never linear. It’s recursive. It echoes in what’s withheld.

In this story, I’m writing about two people who survived the same woman in different ways—one as a sister, one as a lover—and now find themselves circling each other inside the shell she left behind. Every scene is built with symbolic architecture, and much of that draws directly from the interpretive tools Foster provides.

Let’s begin with the house.

Foster’s chapter “Geography Matters” teaches us that setting is never neutral. A house isn’t just a house—it’s a body, a history, a character. The house in The House She Left You is not shelter. It’s aftermath. It’s her, even in death. The hallway still smells like her. The bedroom is sealed like a wound. The silence in the walls is heavy with memory, with guilt, with rot. This isn’t just description—it’s narrative geography. The house itself is a haunted organ, and Pope, when he slips through the door without knocking, becomes not an intruder but a ghost. He’s not entering a space. He’s re-entering a story.

That brings me to Foster’s chapter “Every Trip is a Quest.” Movement in fiction—whether across a state or down a hallway—always means more than logistics. When the narrator walks the length of the hall at 2:37 a.m., barefoot, every step is a spiritual return to what she’s refused to touch. The house knows it. She knows it. She approaches her sister’s old bedroom the way you approach a grave you’ve tried not to visit. She knows Pope is inside before she sees him—not because it’s predictable, but because the logic of grief demands it. Her movement is the quest: not for Pope, not even for closure—but for language, for some way to name what was never said while her sister was alive.

That silence is its own language. Foster’s “Nice to Eat with You: Acts of Communion” reminds us that shared rituals—eating, drinking, sitting together in the dark—are not neutral acts. They’re symbolic ones. In this story, Pope offers her a glass of water in a kitchen where everything is decaying. He asks her if she wants him to stay in a house that smells like her sister’s ghost. These aren’t practical questions. They’re ritualized tests of trust. Communion, in this context, doesn’t mean food. It means presence. Will you let me stay? Will you let me see the parts of you your sister never let anyone touch?

Foster’s “Marked for Greatness” also lingers in my mind. In that chapter, he discusses how physical scars, limps, and bodily damage often symbolize internal wounds. In my story, those marks aren’t visible—but they live in language. In the sister’s needle track marks. In the narrator’s clenched jaw, her white-knuckled grip on a sink, her inability to look Pope in the eyes. These are not merely emotional reactions—they are traumatic inscriptions. The body remembers. The house remembers. The hallway remembers. She sleeps in sweat and silence because grief is not just loss—it’s infestation.

And then, perhaps most importantly, Foster’s “It’s All About Sex…” and “…Except Sex” chapters remind us that eroticism in literature is never just about pleasure. It’s about power, memory, transference, guilt. In The House She Left You, the sex is not tender. It’s not clean. It’s not a reward. It’s something far more difficult: inheritance. What happens when the man your sister destroyed is the same man who knows what she did to you? What happens when the body you’ve always wanted is tied, irrevocably, to the person you’ve always hated most?

The physicality in that final scene is ritualized grief. Pope is not just taking her apart—he’s answering a need that has never been allowed to speak. It’s confession. It’s transference. It’s everything the sister stole. Foster’s frameworks let me write that scene with full awareness that this is not about seduction. This is about grief. About legacy. About what happens when the thing you’ve always wanted finally wants you back—but not in time to save anything.

So much of what I learned from Foster is that meaning can live in the quiet. In the spacing between lines. In who speaks, and who doesn’t. Pope’s silence is an act of control. The narrator’s refusal to cry is an act of survival. When she finally says “I wanted you anyway,” it lands not as scandal but as resurrection—the first truth spoken without her sister watching.

This is how I use Foster: not to write symbols for their own sake, but to embed emotional weight in every image. A door left open. A bed made. A woman on her knees, not in submission, but in reclamation.

5. Hyperfixation as Creative Engine: When the Scene Flatlines and You Keep Writing Through It

When I wrote the trauma bay flatline scene in Built for Battle, Never for Me, I didn’t stop to outline. I didn’t think about structure. I didn’t care how long it would take or how much it would wreck me.

I just kept writing. Because the scene had already begun bleeding in my hands—and the only thing I knew how to do was keep going.

That’s what hyperfixation is for me. It’s not a creative process. It’s a response to emotional triage. It’s how I write scenes where someone’s chest caves under compressions, where a man who once said “I’ll stay” walks back into the story with a wedding ring he didn’t have when he left.

I couldn’t write that scene from a distance. I had to be inside it. Inside the monitor scream. Inside the gloves. Inside the moment he realizes the woman coding on the gurney is the same one he stopped texting back.

The pacing in that scene—seconds tracked like breaths, dialogue stripped down to bone—isn’t calculated. It’s instinct. I knew the time stamps before I knew the resolution. I knew the flatline would come. I knew Jack wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t yell—he would just press harder. Because that’s the only thing he knows how to do. When love fails, he reverts to protocol. To trauma code. To hands.

Every line in that sequence is written like the body remembers—short, clipped, then suddenly flooding. That’s how grief moves. That’s how adrenaline hides pain. And when you’re hyperfixated, you don’t step away from the scene to ask what it means. You stay. You fold his gloves into your own hands. You sit in the corner of the CT hallway with blood on your sleeves and try to make the sentence “I’ll wait this time” sound like penance and not delusion.

I didn’t write that scene over a week. I wrote it in one breathless session—because the story wouldn’t let me out. Because I couldn’t sleep knowing Jack Abbot had felt her pulse disappear beneath his hands. And I couldn’t stop until I got her back.

Hyperfixation lets me hold tension for 10,000 words without blinking. It lets me write time like it’s elastic. One second becomes three pages. One gesture—his hand brushing her temple—becomes an entire act of repentance. This isn’t indulgent. It’s necessary. That’s how you earn the moment when she wakes up. That’s how you make the ring visible. That’s how you write heartbreak that feels like a new kind of CPR—violent, slow, necessary.

I couldn’t have written that moment—“You didn’t change your emergency contact?”—if I wasn’t submerged. If I hadn’t been tracing Jack’s guilt like it was a second spine. That line doesn’t come from plot. It comes from the hours spent wondering what does it mean to be someone’s backup when they’ve stopped showing up?

Hyperfixation doesn’t just keep me writing—it keeps the emotional stakes coherent across collapse. I don’t have to look back to remember what Jack said the last time they saw each other. I feel it in the rhythm of his silence now. I don’t need to check whether she moved on. I know she didn’t—because the way she reacts to that ring is the climax, not the aftermath.

And Jack?

He doesn’t fall apart when he sees her blood. He falls apart when she asks, “You’re married?” and he says, “Not yet.”

That’s what hyperfixation allows me to write: not the tragedy of death, but the tragedy of timing. Of the people we almost had. The lives we could’ve lived if we’d just stayed one more day. One more night. One more breath.

So no—I don’t write this way because it’s healthy. I write this way because it’s the only way that moment ever gets told.

Because love didn’t save her.

Because Jack couldn’t.

Because I had to.

And that’s really what it comes down to—I write how I feel, and I feel everything all the way down. Whether it starts with a song, a picture, a classroom conversation, or a scene that won’t stop clawing at me until I type it—everything I create is layered. Lived-in. Edited like a film and written like a wound. These aren’t just stories—they’re places I’ve had to survive to get out of. And I think that’s the point. I don’t believe in waiting for inspiration. I believe in building it from the ground up: sound first, image next, theory underneath, obsession layered in, and then finally—emotion made clean enough to bleed on the page. That’s how I write. That’s why I write. And if it hurts a little to read? Good. It means it found your pulse.

Please hear me when I say this: your unfinished drafts are not failures. They’re blueprints. Grief maps. Training grounds. Some scenes are meant to be sketches. Some characters live in fragments for a while before they’re ready to speak. But that doesn’t mean your voice is missing—it means it’s gathering. You don’t need to write fast. You don’t need to finish everything you start. You just need to stay close enough to the stories that matter to you that, when they’re ready—you’re the one who gets to bring them to life. And you will.

[askviktor]

What's your PhD in? How about Jayce's? How many years did it take? Did you have to write and defend a thesis? I'm curious about how higher ed works in Piltover and what the process was like for you and your partner.

Our degrees are earned much like yours. Jayce has a doctorate in Mechanical Engineering, the final semester of which he completed while we developed Hextech. I have a Master's degree in Applied Mathematics and a doctorate in Theoretical Physics. For me, these took a combined six years to complete. I completed my undergraduate degree in three years, which I began when I was sixteen. I was a very... single-minded student. I suppose I still am.

My Master’s thesis in Applied Mathematics explored nonlinear dynamical systems in self-regulating mechanisms - how complex, seemingly chaotic systems could stabilize themselves through feedback loops.

My Theoretical Physics PhD dissertation was titled "Harmonic Resonance and the Theory of Energy Optimization in Adaptive Constructs." I proposed that energy could be manipulated more efficiently through resonance patterns, allowing mechanical systems to function with minimal external input. In essence, I sought to create machines that could power themselves.

Of course, it was not until I encountered Hextech that my theories found their true application.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Physicists investigate dynamic phenomena of a time crystal

Physicists at TU Dortmund University have periodically driven a time crystal and discovered a remarkable variety of nonlinear dynamic phenomena, ranging from perfect synchronization to chaotic behavior within a single semiconductor structure. The team has now published its latest findings in the journal Nature Communications. For their current research, Dr. Alex Greilich's team from the Department of Physics utilized a highly robust time crystal, previously introduced in Nature Physics last year. The crystal, made of indium gallium arsenide, was continuously illuminated with a laser during the initial experiment. This interaction caused a nuclear spin polarization, which in turn spontaneously generated oscillations, embodying the essence of a time crystal through periodic behavior under constant excitation.

Read more.